Behind Capitol Doors
by HarvestMoonTales
Summary: UPDATED:You might think that Peeta was tortured in the Capitol, but there's a different side to the story.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: My leg

May-26-12

9:16 PM

**A/N: Hey everyone! This is my second new story. I'm not sure how it's going to turn out so I'd love to know what you think. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this fanfic.**

**Starflight12**

I wake up in a strange bed alone. I have no idea where I am. I just know that I don't want to get up and find out. It's so comfortable here that I think I'll fall back asleep.

But my brain's not going to go with that. Instead, I'm trying to remember what the last thing that happened to me was.

I am drawing a blank memory. Nothing. Just vaguely remembering a battle field and a wall exploding with fireworks popping all around me.

I finally demand to myself to get up from this plush bedding and stand up, trying to hold onto something durable in case I fall without my prosthetic leg.

But I don't. I reach to turn on a lamp and when the light explodes across the room, I see that I do indeed have my leg and it's no longer fake. No, it's an actual leg. I test it out. Rubbing my hand down my calf, feeling it's new flesh which strangely matches my existing skin colour.

Before now, I've been using a metal robotic leg that's been programmed to do simple movements. Walk slowly forward. Walk extremely fast backwards because if you didn't get what you needed when walking slowly forward, then you are going to be running late since you forgot something. It can't run, but in my mind I have some foreign memory of running with my prosthetic recently. I think after doing that I was in so much pain.

I change from my sleep shirt and pants into some more presentable clothes for when I go to take a gander around the quarters of where I am.

I seem to have great stability on this leg even though I have no practice walking or working with this leg.

I dress in jeans and I have no problems whatsoever trying to place my leg in the pant holes.

As I walk around my room which is about the size of two large rooms filled with wall to wall windows and masculine coloured walls which accent the masculine styled room—types of bed frames and dressers and curtains and bedding—I put on my shirt and test out my leg at the same time.

Walking I seem to have no problem. It's a very simple task. Something before this change was a struggle. I had to watch every place my foot landed and especially how it landed in the ground. If it landed crookedly, then I would have to stop what I was doing and then gently ease my foot into a more comfortable position. And what's worse is when the metal joint of the leg would rub against the stump of what's left of my real leg. It would cause such a friction that it would cause so much unbearable pain to the point I would have to stop moving.

Now this, this is a luxurious alternative if I do say so myself, even though I have no idea what this alternative is.

I try running. I can actually run without pain and not have to think about what I am doing!

I take another look at this new leg. I now notice a little black ink drawing that's been absorbed by my skin. I pull my new leg up to my chest—something that i haven't been able to do since my leg had to be amputated.

I peer at the design and realize that this isn't some random tattoo that was placed on me or even by my accord.

It's the Capitol's emblem. And it means that I'm now one of their new pawns.

**A/N: Well? Please Review!**


	2. II The Leader of the War

II The leader of the war

June-30-12

12:07 PM

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay on this story. I've been busy with school and could only handle one story at the time. I may or may not continue this story if readers do not let me know what they think of the story and if I should continue. Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this fanfic.**

**Starflight12**

I immediately leave my room in search of someone who could possibly explain what the heck is going on.

The hallways are deep bloody red and the wallpaper is covered with black and white roses standing at ready position.

I finally find someone standing at the end of the hallway, going about and doing what they must be required to do.

"Excuse me, but can you explain to me what has happened?" I ask.

The worker stares at me like I am crazy and then points to a woman sitting in the sitting room, looking at a hot pink clipboard.

I vaguely remember her from some weird unknown past of mine and hesitantly walk over to her with my new original leg.

"Um, excuse me ma'am," I say to the lady.

"Peeta, no need for formalities. What can I help you with? I'm on a tight schedule so make this quick," the woman says.

Well I wouldn't be so formal if I could remember your name Lady.

"Um, what's happened? I don't really remember much. Could you please explain to me?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck from embarrassment as she looks at me like I'm crazy. Heck, who knows, I might be in this bizarre place.

"Oh Peeta, don't worry I'll explain. See, you're here in the Capitol because they've chosen you as their leader, of sorts. You're the leader of the war and they can't have a leader living in poor conditions, can they? So since you were chosen from the tributes, you now live here in the Capitol, and everything has been revamped for you. Your leg for example. Having a bad leg is not very good for the leader so they reworked your leg and now it's good as new. Take a look around here, Peeta, I'm sure everything here will be to your standards. Now if you'll excuse me, I must go and check to see if Portia is coming for your ball as leader of the war and so you can be fitted in clothes to the nines. It's going to be a busy, busy day!" the woman says whom I still haven't gotten her name.

I'm in shock from hearing this because I don't believe it. I have to see everything for it to be the truth to me.

I walk to the television room which is more like a big room with an extremely large television and so many chairs that would probably fit the entire population of the north end of the Capitol.

I sit down and am instantly comforted by the soft indescribable plush seats. This is nothing compared to when I used to live somewhere in Panem. I don't really remember where I lived; it's like a dream that I've had such a long time ago and I haven't visited that place in a while.

I try hard to remember that dream and I all I remember is hard mattresses even though I believe I lived in a richer side of town. I also remember that I barely had the chance to sit at home; only when I had homework, but even that chair wasn't meant for a lounging seat. It was meant for work and work only.

In the bakery we always had to get working; there were too many mouths to feed in the town that those came first if we wanted the money.

I find a little rectangle beside me stuck inside the chair, hidden from view in the dimly lit room. I pull it out and am met with many buttons and controls which I have no idea what each one does.

I am lucky to see that on each of the buttons, there are tiny letters printed on them which indicate what each button does and I am able to turn on the big screen.

I am blown away when I feel the pressure of the volume of the television when I turn it on. Literally. It is raised to at least seventy percent on the controller and I scramble to lower the volume.

Now at a comfortable volume, I search for a channel among thousands of other channels that I've never seen on my television at home when we are required under Panem's law to view the Hunger Games live.

I find a news station to see what is going on; another perspective of someone other than the people who are present and under Snow's rule in this building, wherever I am.

The instant headline that flashes across the screen that would definitely beat the screen that they've set up in our town when we first have to watch the opening ceremonies in the town square.

The headline informs me and the rest of Panem and the Capitol that I am the leader of the war against the rebels.

Who are the rebels anyways? I would love to meet them and give them a piece of my mind for defying the Capitol. After seeing all that the Capitol has done for me, with the leg and now being in charge, I can't believe that they would throw this in Snow's face. He probably offered them this position and they turned it down. The rebels are a disgrace and I could never love the rebels, not that I would have a reason to love them.

I realize something now that I know that I am going against the rebels. Could they want to kill me?

**A/N: Well? Please Review or no updates!**


	3. Chapter 3

III The Paint Room

Friday, July 06, 2012

4:22 PM

**A/N: Well, sorry that I haven't updated as often as you all would probably like, but I am really into the Divergent Trilogy and so I've been busy. XD If any of you readers have an element of the Capitol that you'd like to see or learn about in BCD, please review and I'll put that as a chapter. **

**Thank you. Now, on with the Capitol's secrets.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this fanfic.**

**Starflight12**

I still have some free time before the interview with a man named Caesar Flickerman regarding my new position as War Leader, so I decide that I will go and wander this building some more.

I am alone in these hallways and it sort of feels weird. I wish that there were others here to spend time with, like people my actual age who I can relate to. Not these strange Capitol people who never seem to understand you and have so many strange rules and ways of living. It's nothing like the district that I used to live in, even though I don't remember where I lived.

Walking down these halls remind me of some past life. I remember going down these halls with some girl with dark braided hair who had captured my heart. I do know though, that she didn't feel the same way for me always, but she did try to spend time with me at different times when we had stayed here.

I walk past the first wooden door and I hesitantly open it. It is a bedroom. It seems that it was made for a female since the accents in the room are feminine. I do remember sleeping here at one point in my past life. I don't remember why or what for or even the memory of it all. It mostly feels like a dream far away that I haven't had for so very long.

I quickly feel out of place and shut the door quietly, not wanting to draw attention to myself since I don't even know if I'm allowed to tour the building.

I continue on my way and find myself walking past my own bedroom which I found myself in just this morning. How many things have occurred in such a short period of time.

I then notice a door at the end of the hallway and I am instantly drawn to it. I look behind me discretely to make sure that no one is following me and I dart to the door, pushing it open and closing it behind me after I make sure that it won't lock me out of the building.

I am met with a set of stairs that go up towards the roof of this building and being the curious guy I am now, I carefully take a step up to explore this place.

After at least hobbling up twelve stairs with my new leg, since I'm just getting used to it, I find myself at another door. I push it gently open and I am hit with a blow of air in my face.

My hair is pushed back to one side and I open my eyes once the force is gone.

I am on the roof of the building.

In front of me, I see a ledge wall that blocks visitors from falling into the sky. It allows you to overlook the city of Panem, but it keeps you safe.

It is a nice coloured sky right now; the sun is shining brightly, all the flowers on the green roof of the building swaying softly to the windy beat. The colours have me transfixed on them, my eyes betraying me as I try to look away.

I walk to a rocky wall that is placed in the middle of the building and I push myself against it as I sit down on the ground.

I have been here before. I have sat here on this very ground, drawing and playing with hair, I believe.

There was a girl laying next to me, her head placed in my lap as I tried to braid her hair as she created a crown of flowers?

I shake my head of the rushing of thoughts in my head and I stand up again.

I place my hand on the wall and I steady myself as I walk along the stone wall. It corners at one point and I follow the ninety degree angle path. I am forced to turn again and I feel the rocks bubble under my hand as I travel along.

My hand suddenly is hit with the cold of a metal and the roughness of rust amongst the smooth and spikey rocks.

I look towards my hand.

There, in the rock wall is a door. An old door with a door handle and lock.

I grasp the door handle and try to pull on it, hoping to be lucky and discover what is behind the door. Unfortunately, the odds aren't in my favour for this.

Frustrated, I look around the roof for something thin and hard so that I could use it to jig the lock of the mysterious door.

I soon find a nail nearby the door and I pick it up, and shove it into the lock. I have to jiggle it a bit to get the lock to open. After a few minutes of doing that, I hear a small click.

I pull out the nail and open the door. It feels heavy and so I use most of my weight to pull it open enough for me to fit through the threshold.

I check the lock on the interior side of the door and discover that it locks and that there is a key in this room for the door. I snatch the key from its lonesome hook and push it into my pocket.

I feel the wall for a light switch and instead I am met with a gooey and cold, wet substance. Feeling my whole body jump out of my own skin, I rush to find the light.

I feel the bump in the wall and turn the switch on. Light filters through the room and I find out that what's on my fingers is just green paint.

A girl loved the colour green.

I shake my head and observe the room.

It is pain splattered, multi-coloured and looking abstract.

There are many blank canvases and art stands laying around the room on the worn floor among many what it seems, unused sketchbooks and different kind of pencils and paints and colour swatches.

I feel a sense of home in this room.

The Paint Room, is what I dub it.

I move towards the canvas and grab a paint brush and sit down on the floor, not having a care in the world.

I dip the paint brush in the paint and I get to work.

I start with a face, it seems unknown to me, but I have this urge to get it perfectly accurate to this image in the back of my mind that feels like a dream.

The skin colour and the eyes and lips are what I focus on the most. That's what gives me many emotions deep down in my heart.

I paint the hair and the nose and the certain intricate braid that this girl always wore. I take a grey piece of charcoal and I lightly colour the girl's eyes, making them a shiny silver.

Finally I take a pen and underneath her picture, I write the name that pops in my head like a light bulb.

Katniss.

The moment I finish this, I look into her eyes and I must look away. There's something about this girl that bugs me. I just don't know what. I have so many mixed feelings about her that it rages me.

Before the feeling develop, I hear someone coming up the stairs to the roof.

I grab the painting and hide it behind some other canvases and race towards the door, but not after cleaning the brush.

I shut the light and pull the door shut, hearing the clicking of the lock, just as the person makes their way to the roof patio.

It's Effie.

"Peeta, what are you doing up here?" she asks.

"I was getting some fresh air. You know, clearing my mind, preparing for my interview after finding out the news of being the war leader," I say quickly, trying to cover up that I was intruding into a secret place.

"Well that's fine, but you must come down to get ready for your interview. Certain things must be in order before you go on television. Come along," Effie replies, clearly buying my lie.

I nod and follow her down the stairs, away from my Paint room, my secret haven, a place where I will visit again very soon.

**A/N: Well, this was a longer chapter. What do you think? Please Review!**


	4. IV The Interview

IV The Interview

July-17-12

5:36 PM

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! The parts in italics are from page 132, 133, 134 of Mockingjay. Only a few more chapters left!**

**Please Review! The more reviews, the better chances of updating! You can follow me on tumblr: i-still-want-to-be-me **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this fanfic.**

**i-still-want-to-be-me**

I sit down on the nearby chair, waiting to be escorted down to Panem's television studio where I will be interviewed for the war or something.

I have no idea what I am supposed to say or any idea what this interview is going to be like. All I know is that i have somewhere to be very shortly and that I am assuming that I am going to be provided something to say—well at least that's what I've overheard from my prep team.

They are a group of actually pretty calm and collected people—well I'd say more like creatures since I have no idea what they are. I mean, I think one's a cat, one's a dog and the other seems to be some sort of parrot? Oh, no, I presume its a jabberjay. But underneath all that getup and transplants to make that happen, I believe deep down inside that they are real people just hidden away.

They keep making me think positive, and now I'm starting to think of the Capitol as a happy and good place for me. I mean, thinking it over, I have all I need, exactly like my prep team said. I have a paint room, which is something I love for, and I have my leg back! Okay, so that's not much, but I think there's more to come of these surprises.

Effie comes in, followed by two armed, gruff guards who seem like they do not want to be here at the moment.

The guards lead me out of the floor that I'm now calling my home, and take me down the elevator.

When on the elevator, I find that the ride conjured some memories that I am not sure about and it felt like my whole entire head was pounding with thoughts bouncing off the walls of my skull. One thought is that I should not trust the Capitol, but I didn't listen to it. No, it's all fake, and lies.

I'm lead into a nearby building and was sent to a dressing room where someone from the television studio would come and fetch me for the interview.

Still, no word on what I'll say.

Not long after, I hear someone say my name and an avox comes in and injects me with a syringe. I feel no different and shortly after I am being forced onto the stage without it being a major deal. The crowd isn't supposed to see my guards and escorts.

The bright lights flash in my eyes and I swear bring déja vu to me. I remember sitting in the same chair, talking about some mysterious girl. Who she was, troubles my memories.

I see President Snow sitting in a chair, watching my every move. He scares me.

_"Citizens of Panem please welcome Mr. Mellark! Hello Mr. Mellark, you look well, don't you?" President Snow greets me and the camera._

"Thank you very much, President Snow, sir," I reply back, reading word for word off of the teleprompter.

_"Why don't we start off by war news. Why do you think a cease-fire is needed, now that you are the leader of the war here, on the Capitol's side?" President Snow questions me._

I wrack my brain for any thoughts of my own, but I keep drawing blanks. I look to the teleprompter which is flashing red for my attention.

_"Well, we need a cease-fire, because our fighting is just ruining Panem! The more that the Rebels fight against us, the more damage it brings to our key infrastructure in many of the districts. For example, with all the fighting in District Seven, our lumber industry, we have now created a broken dam, that is causing flash flooding, forcing residents to flee. As well as, elsewhere, the rebels have created so much havoc that people have gone and derailed a train causing toxic waste to spill over and potentially harm all occupants in the area. In another case, rebels decided to light a fire, which caused a granary to collapse, killing many," I say, barely understanding any of the words that I'm reading. I'm about to continue when__―_

"What the―" I hear President Snow suddenly shout.

_I look to the television screen which is no longer showing me, but a girl. The girl that keeps on entering my thoughts. But I don't like her. She's...she's the enemy. No, that's not right, it can't be. I've never known anything about her and everything that I've remembered is__―_

I see myself back on the screen and I quickly continue reading the teleprompter.

_"Uh, and the uh, the rebels, they have ruined, the um...the water purification plant which ends up affecting everyone who uh drinks water, cause you know, and the bombing, and um exactly why__―__" I ramble off, not being able to comprehend the words spewing off the teleprompter since I'm so distracted with this mysterious girl, when a man with bronze hair comes on the screen instead._

_I try to continue speaking each time that I see myself back on the camera, but I'm seeing so many others whom I vaguely remember._

_President Snow seems to be getting more and more furious, with him yelling at me to be a better leader and to follow what is on the teleprompter, and to focus. _

_Finally I see that we're back on camera and Snow is forcefully taking the reins._

_"Well, I like the little attack on the Capitol. Very well done. It's clearly the rebels are now attempting to disrupt the dissemination of information they find incriminating, but both truth and justice will reign. The full broadcast will resume when security has been reinstated. Now Peeta if, given tonight's demonstration, do you have any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen?" President Snow states and questions._

_Hearing her name and now getting so many visuals of her, my face suddenly contorts on its own and I get angry and kind feelings in my heart. Instead of speaking from the teleprompter, I speak from my heart._

_"Katniss...how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you...in Thirteen…" I inhale sharply, suddenly fighting for air that I never knew I needed before, and I can feel my eyes growing large and I feel a monster come out from within me that I've never experienced before. "Dead by morning!"_

_To my left President Snow shouts "End it!" and on the television screen are multiple shots of this girl, Katniss in different settings. I have this urge to kill her, yet help her! I don't know what to do._

_I keep trying to continue speaking about Katniss and the rebels, this is coming from a place in my head that I cannot seem to reach at the moment until I see that President Snow isn't very pleased with what I'm doing. In the heat of the moment, he knocks over the camera which I now realize is still filming me and he charges towards me, smacking me in the head for no reason, and me falling to the floor, my head smacking off the tile and a small trickle of blood is streaming out of my mouth._

_I cry out in pain and I am knocked unconscious by another blow._


	5. Chapter 5

V The Mockingjay

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

4:22 PM

* * *

I wake up in a much different location that I did before. I'm now on a floor that is cold, wet, stinky and really uncomfortable for me. My whole body feels broken and in pain for some reason. I place my hand against my head to smooth down my short hair which seems a bit longer since my meeting with my prep team before my interview.

How long ago was this? I really don't know.

On my head, I feel a dried sticky substance that from looking at its remains on my fingers is blood from wen I believe President Snow hit me after my interview and I was trying to warn Katniss for a reason I don't remember.

I try to stand up upon my feet and I collapse instantly. When I place my weight on my left leg like I usually do, there is no support anymore. I look down at my leg and see that it's gone. No prosthetic, no wooden peg, no metal contraption that doesn't make any sense, and definitely no new actual leg like they had surgically replaced the first day I woke up here.

I'm stranded here.

There's nothing to do anymore. No people to talk to, not a single human interaction. There is no television, no entertainment like the parties I vaguely was invited to; not that I enjoyed them—no, many girls my age tried to hang around me in hopes of me choosing them for whatever they wanted. But I didn't; this strange girl named Katniss was it for me.

I feel a growling sensation at Katniss' name, and I know something is wrong. I feel angry, ashamed, lonely and want all at the same time and it's all towards this hair-braided girl who seems to be important.

I shake my head to rid of her; I don't want to lose control at my most vulnerable point.

I notice some bread in the darkest corner of my cell, and without a second thought, I run to it.

It seems like the normal bread that suddenly pops into my head which I barely remember baking.

I remember a bakery with two other boys that looked like me and an old man that I am a replica of in a younger body. I remember kneading some dough and mixing in some nuts and raisins in. Whatever the reason I did it for, makes no effort to try and make me remember.

I remember hearing my mother start shouting at someone in our backyard and I going to investigate as the young curious boy I was.

A little girl shrinking away from my mother and her weapon-like broom surrounded me.

When mother left I quickly burnt the bread that I tried so hard to bake perfectly and I ran out of the house with a burn quickly erupting on my hands. Before I got outside, my mother reached me and smacked the side of my face as punishment.

At the impact and pain from both the smack and burn, I feel anger and violentness quickly course through my veins, making me feel like a mad man. I feel hatred and venom against this poor stupid girl who sits and waits for bread.

I bring it to her and suddenly catch her off guard, wringing my hands on her neck.

I look around and see that I'm in my cell, lashing out at the brick walls around me. I notice the bread that I've eaten previously thrown against the opposite corner I've found the bread in. I will not eat this bread again.

I now have this urge to do something about this Katniss since I've had this memory.

I remember doing something before I was sent down to this cell. Even before the interview.

I place my hand against the side of my head where there is still blood from my wound and I gather up some of the sticky substance. I bring my hand down and look at the concrete beside me before spreading my fingers around on the floor. They move on their own accordance and I am barely aware of what I am doing.

My fingers stop abruptly and I eye my masterpiece, if that's what I can even call it.

It looks as if a child finger painted this. Not me, who was able to draw that portrait of that Katniss girl—

My brain muscles start clenching and I pinch my arm to try and will myself back to normal—or however I was prior to thinking of that, that creature.

A ding rings out in my cell and I look up, searching for more food. My hunger is getting the best of me, and I am ignoring the rules that I am supposed to be forcing myself to follow.

I charge straight for whatever lies there—this time it's soup and a glass of milk—it looks surprisingly fresh—and grab the first thing that's closest to me for my parched mouth, the soup.

I slurp it down noisily, pouring it into my throat, barely choking on the small pieces of chopped meat. As soon as the bowl is bone dry, I down the cup of milk and fall back against the wall, my stomach happy and fullX

Not long after, my eyes start to fall shut and instead of my mind shutting down as well to rest, it turns on hyper-drive and everything seems like I'm in a fun house with mirrors, something I've seen in a Capitol-made movie during the victory tour with Kat—

That mutt. She tricked me. The only reason why she wanted to sleep in the same bed together was not for nightmares. She wanted to kill me in my sleep! Why she wanted find me and she brought me to the cave when my leg was cut? She wanted to kill me. Why she wanted me alone on the beach with her while everyone slept during the Quarter Quell? She wanted to kill me off without anyone else knowing, luckily Finnick woke up—wait, isn't he apart of Katniss' team?

Someone's entering the cell. She's got a long, brown braid, silver-grey eyes and olive skin. Katniss.

"Peeta, I'm not here to harm you," Katniss says.

I know she's lying. I see the knife behind her back. I see the evil behind her smile. I know the smile is actually a smirk.

In a split second, I lash out at her, attacking her and slamming her to the ground. She screams out, fangs showing.

I no longer hear a female scream, but a male shouting, and many other males shouting as well.

I open my eyes and see many soldiers standing in front of me, one that looks like Katniss is fighting against my weight.

In my crazed mind, which seems not so crazed to me, I feel my grip slack and the soldier is now pinning me down, locking my hands behind as I continue my struggle.

I don't know if they are Rebels or Capitol Supporters, and I can't seem to relent against either.

I suddenly feel a needle jab in my neck and I fall onto the ground, slumping in an uncomfortable position onto the hard concrete.

I turn my head slightly and notice blood on the concrete.

My blood. But it's not in a pool, and it's not wet.

It's dried and in shape of a bird.

I painted the Mockingjay, I think, and dots cover my eyes before everything becomes black.

* * *

**A/N: So...Sorry for the long wait. I got caught up in my new story, Stronger and I had writer block for this story. So, it's done. After this, starts Mockingjay (the book) after the rescue. Thanks to everyone who followed, reviewed and favourited. You can follow me on twitter: istillwantotbeme or**

**tumblr: i-still-want-to-be-me for updates and cool stuff.**

**Thanks so much, please review, and I hope to have a new story maybe next summer, or hopefully earlier**

**Farewell for now!**


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